drawled.

"Humph! Yes--well, any self-respectin' person would do that, even
if he had to go barefooted the rest of his life. But, what I'm
gettin' at is this: Babbitt'll come to me orderin' me to get
Leander exempted. And what'll I say?"

Winslow turned and looked at him.

"Seems to me, Sam," he answered, "that if that thing happened
there'd be only one thing to say. You'd just have to tell him that
you'd listen to his reasons and if they seemed good enough to let
the boy off, for your part you'd vote to let him off. If they
didn't seem good enough--why--"

"Well--what?"

"Why, then Leander'd have to go to war and his dad could go to--"

"Eh? Go on. I want to hear you say it. Where could he go?"

Jed wiped the surplus paint from his brush on the edge of the can.

"To sellin' hardware," he concluded, gravely, but with a twinkle in
his eye.

Captain Sam sniffed, perhaps in disappointment. "His hardware'd
melt where I'D tell him to go," he declared. "What you say is all
right, Ed. It's an easy doctrine to preach, but, like lots of
other preacher's doctrines, it's hard to live up to. Phin loves me
like a step-brother and I love him the same way. Well, now here he
comes to ask me to do a favor for him. If I don't do it, he'll
say, and the whole town'll say, that I'm ventin' my spite on him,
keepin' on with my grudge, bein' nasty, cussed, everything that's
mean. If I do do it, if I let Leander off, all hands'll say that I
did it because I was afraid of Phineas and the rest would say the
other thing. It puts me in a devil of a position. It's all right
to say, 'Do your duty,' 'Stand up in your shoes,' 'Do what you
think's right, never mind whose boy 'tis,' and all that, but I
wouldn't have that old skunk goin' around sayin' I took advantage
of my position to rob him of his son for anything on earth. I
despise him too much to give him that much satisfaction. And yet
there I am, and the case'll come up afore me. What'll I do, Jed?
Shall I resign? Help me out. I'm about crazy. Shall I heave up
the job? Shall I quit?"

Jed put down the brush and the sailor man. He rubbed his chin.

"No-o," he drawled, after a moment.

"Oh, I shan't, eh? Why not?"

"'Cause you don't know how, Sam. It always seemed to me that it
took a lot of practice to be a quitter. You never practiced."

"Thanks. All right, then, I'm to hang on, I suppose, and take my
medicine. If that's all the advice you've got to